Sympathy For an Artist
by Yamato's Tiger Lily
Summary: Rohan grew disgusted with himself. What was the matter with him?


**Sympathy for an Artist**

When it rained in Morioh, Rohan Kishibe would be more likely to take longer dinner breaks than usual. Because his mind constantly buzzed for ideas for the upcoming volumes, various plotlines, incredible subplots, probably to flesh out side characters more – all for the sake of his fans. It was the rainy season in Morioh which gave Rohan the chance to take breaks a little more often.

He would still push himself to finish just a bit more than usual – he didn't want to get comfortable with doing less just because he took breaks more frequently. He had a simple meal; a meal that both filled him and satisfied him. It didn't take him too long to cook or consume the meal anyway. The silence of his house, sans the pitter patter of the rain outside, comforted him as he looked outside with some warm tea.

Often, he found himself comforted by the silence of the night, especially with the rain. Lately, though, it seemed more and more people came to his house to visit him. At first, it was because the boys were fans of Pink Dark Boy and wanted to peek at his drafts. Ridiculous.

They should've been patient. And while Rohan could feel his old injuries tingle again, he still laughed at the memory.

Well, of course they wanted to peek at the great Rohan's work. He is the greatest manga artist who ever lived. And because of Koichi and the other kid's interference, it gave Rohan an understanding of what Heaven's Door was and why it came to be. However, Rohan was thankful towards whoever gave him that ability.

However, Rohan grew irritated because now all he could think about was _him_ , the pompadour clad teenager – Josuke Higashitaka. It was because of Josuke that his old wounds tingled at the memory of it all. It was because of Josuke his house had burned down.

Rohan grew annoyed and even angry at the memory. He knew the teen cheated somehow. It wasn't his own Stand that he used, no, but it was something completely unknown to Rohan and it irritated him. Still to this day, he didn't know what caused that guy to target _Rohan_. Rohan didn't do anything to deserve this. He had suffered enough from his own life story.

After realizing his babysitter had given up her life to protect him, Rohan must have instinctively chosen to remain isolated. People had always annoyed him – especially after they found out he was an artist. They'd ask him to draw big boobs or them or something stupid. He didn't understand why people demanded him to perform for them.

He knew people had always been terrible actors but he wouldn't just ask them to perform on the spot. Rohan had known he was better than the others. He kept to himself and did his work. He only went to school to the allotted time he was supposed to, nothing more and nothing less.

However, he drew whenever he could. His nose pointed towards his notebook and sketchbook even though he constantly looked down on those around him. How petty. How dumb. Humans were always pathetically stupid. Had they listened to what was being said, had they looked at what was in front of them.

"What do you mean better than us? Are you saying you look down on us?"

Rohan wouldn't bother to explain. If the simpletons couldn't understand what it meant to be "better", they didn't deserve an explanation. Ungrateful for the people around them, constantly whining about the stupidest things, Rohan couldn't understand the point of complaining when they could simply get rid of it. Or rather, not think about it. Sometimes, it really was that simple. Rohan could sympathize with sadness and empathize – but in his eyes, there was no reason to dwell on things that had passed. Rohan understood that people have traumas and they find their own ways to cope – however, Rohan didn't care. Rather, not caring, Rohan couldn't be bothered.

However, the people who would constantly complain couldn't take in the simple beauty the earth provided and appreciated it, emulated it, become grateful for its existence but alas their ignorance caused the beauty to remain hidden.

Although, Rohan was rather thankful – if it wasn't for their ignorance and complaints, Rohan wouldn't take it upon himself to draw the earth's beauty. It allowed to hone his skills into create something beautiful to share with the world. He would be lying to himself if he didn't enjoy the look on people's faces when they see his art shining back at them.

The better the art, the more realistic the scenarios, the better the reactions. Ah, Rohan was easily drunk on praise and even though the general populace irritated the hell out of him on a constant basis, Rohan was weak for their words of praise. Money and fame only allowed him to push himself further and to push his manga further out into people's hands.

"As long as people read my manga… my stories… gaze upon my art…" Rohan had proclaimed once to himself. There wasn't any doubt in his mind Rohan wanted to be anything else other than an artist. He couldn't imagine himself as a businessman. He couldn't imagine himself in any other position. Could any other position in the world bring him as much joy as being an artist did?

Nothing was good enough for Rohan, and he was glad for it. He worked hard to achieve the level of skill he was at and he didn't deserve anything lower than what he already had and deserved even more. Rohan Kishibe was born to be an artist and he'll die with his pen in hand. Nothing was too good for his precious fans. If it wasn't for them, Rohan couldn't create the stories he does. Truly, he wanted to bring an escape to people's lives in a dreary world, especially where Stands now existed.

Disasters happen all over the world every day and Rohan is the only one who could bring joy in their lives. It was his duty, as long as he breathes on earth, to draw for them and their happiness.

Rohan noticed though he's become happier with himself, especially since getting Heaven's Door. Ever since Koichi Hirose, and his friends, had entered his life, Rohan found his life a lot noisier. Normally, he wouldn't have allowed such nonsense even near him. Normally, he would try to adapt and bring some fake inspiration but for some reason, his inspiration started to come to him more and more naturally.

Though, despite all their faults, at the very least, Koichi had respected him. Rohan had an endless supply of inspiration surrounding him. He had always observed people and drew their reactions from far away but now he had a chance to see them up close and be in the foray. It was interesting for him, to say the least. Granted, they are annoying as hell – but the only way he could show his gratitude though was through his art.

It was always hard for Rohan to show emotions on his face. There wasn't a need to. Why should he show someone when he was happy or sad when he could already feel those emotions inside him? Annoyance constantly overshadowed everything else but bit by bit, Rohan could feel other emotions slip through. The cracks grew wider and wider as the teens constantly put themselves in danger.

Rohan had a duty to help, at the very least. He was older after all; he had to ensure the safety of the next generation as much as he could.

Rohan grew disgusted with himself. What was the matter with him? The artist also noticed the difference in his art – the characters became more expressive and even more fleshed out. Granted, he would sometimes sneak Heaven's Door on Koichi, or whomever was closest, to get some ideas but only sometimes. The reviews for his manga had dwindled when he first arrived back to Morioh until after the adventures with Josuke and Koichi and the others. The reviews started to express excitement about how much _better_ the manga became. Rohan could never figure out why.

"Hm," Rohan had thought as he drank the last drops of his tea. "I wonder."

Every time he thought of the teenaged group, he felt a little happier and he couldn't understand why.

Maybe, just maybe, he should draw a private doujinshi about his feelings towards them. After all, it was easier to draw than it was to actually talk to them about it.


End file.
